


Fade to Black

by Aestera



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, M/M, Partly Isak/Chris, Slow Burn, Smut, bisexual Even, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9908051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aestera/pseuds/Aestera
Summary: Even’s mouth twists like the start of a smile and in that moment, everything burns just a little brighter. But there’s also an odd glint in his eyes, caustic and leering, that chills Isak to the bone.Or in which, Isak outs Even in a fit of jealousy, which sends him spiraling out of control.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Please do heed the warnings, as there will be descriptions of drug use and violence.**
> 
> I would like to emphasize that Even's mental illness does NOT serve as a basis for his words, actions, or the events that transpire. They are born out of excessive drinking, personal insecurities about his sexuality and confusion about his new feelings for Isak. However, if such themes causes you to spasm and froth at the mouth in fury, I suggest you give this one a miss.

It’s almost 2am at Eva’s end of the semester bash. The music is blaring at what is probably an illegal volume, mostly top 40s, much to Isak’s distaste. He is tucked away in the corner nearest to the washroom, listening to the sounds of slobbery first year hook ups. He would walk right out this instant, if he weren’t so entranced by the glorious sight just a mere eight feet away from him.

Even is across the room, pounding beer, leaning down and whispering something into Sonja’s ear. The pallor of his skin is almost painfully obvious under the harsh Technicolor lights, turning him almost translucent. They are kissing, tongues and teeth clashing wildly, stifling laughter. He should look away, but he can’t bring himself to. The dregs of liquor tastes stale in his mouth. He keeps his gaze fixed on Even, desperately trying to memorize the way his fringe falls over his eyes when he tilts his head. The way his mouth curves and puckers up when he’s amused.

The memories resurface. _Even’s tongue sliding across the roof of his mouth, eliciting the most erotic moan from the back of his throat._ The half empty bottle of beer feels oddly heavy in his hands, and he wonders how badly he would cut himself if he applied enough force to shatter it into pieces.

He’s completely wasted and should probably be heading back home, but the thought of an empty apartment is almost unbearable at this point. On a whim, he smashes the bottle on the counter top, sending glass shards flying across the room. This earns him a few looks from the more sober attendees. He is shaking, from head to toe, scalding tears burning up his retinas. The air feels thicker, like he’s nursing oxygen through a tube. A blonde girl starts grinding up against him, lips on his neck. He stares numbly at the sheen of sweat on her chest, just below her clavicle, illuminated by the jagged flare of lights. It’s too warm in here. He needs to get out. He’s seconds away from passing out, and then--

Even looks over and their eyes lock. He looks concerned, or at least that’s what his brain is telling him. Just a sick illusion. They’re nothing to each other now. But there’s a part of his soul that still clings to the tiniest sliver of hope. That it was all just a dream. Even’s mouths twists like the start of a smile and in that moment, everything burns just a little brighter. He’s just about to grin back when something changes. The smile flickers off and he slams Sonja up against the far wall, prying her legs apart, still holding his gaze. Ice shoots through his veins. She’s yelling, clawing at him, trying to shove him off her. The music’s too loud; and no one bothers to spare them a glance. There’s an odd glint in Even’s eyes, caustic and leering, that chills him to the bone. But nerve isn’t something he lacks at the moment, not after seven shots of Absolut vodka.

He steels himself, and takes a step forward.

 

**2 weeks before the incident**

Isak wakes up with a jolt. It’s early dawn, and the weak morning light is filtering through the curtains, casting strange patterns on the floorboards. Even is still asleep, head nestled against the crook of his shoulder. The creases lining his forehead have evened out in slumber, and he looks almost childlike, buried in the sheets. Isak rolls over and presses a kiss to his cheek, and he cracks open an eye.

“Hey.” He grins, brushing some hair out of Even’s eyes.

“Hey yourself.” Even sits up and stretches languidly, almost like a feline. Isak stares, heart thrumming wildly against his ribs.

“I’ve gotta drop by Sonja’s before school. Left some of my books there yesterday.”

“But I thought we were gonna, you know, walk to school together.”

He shakes his head. “I told you. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Even sighs in a way that makes him feel like a whiny five year old. The words hang in the balance as he roots around under the bed for his street clothes.

“I have a reputation to keep, Isak. No one knows we even hang out. It’ll look weird.” He sits down on the desk chair and yanks on a pair of mismatched socks. “My friends still think I’m straight. They’ll all have a good laugh if I suddenly start going on about my newly discovered preferences.”

“They’ll have to accept it eventually.” Isak says, trying to keep his tone level. He doesn’t want to sound desperate or upset, that’ll just create more unnecessary distance, as if they didn't already have an ocean between them.

“I know. I’ll tell them soon. I promise. Just…not right now.” He picks up his backpack and leans over to press a kiss against Isak’s cheek, before ducking out of the door.

Isak leans back onto the heap of pillows, a hollowness stirring in the pit of his stomach. It’s hard not to feel like a whore or stripper when your lover leaves first thing in the morning. There’s a new soreness around his upper thighs and he lifts the sheets up to inspect them, and sucks in a breath. Fingernail marks line the pale expanse of skin closest to his groin, a few of them still bleeding. Last night had been rough, and Even had been almost black out drunk when he went down on him. He doesn’t remember much, only that they had left the _Kosegruppa_ meeting early and came back to his apartment. Eskild and Linn were out for the night so they didn’t have to worry about being quiet.

He remembers Even’s hot breath against his ear, as he reached into his jeans, palming at his half hard cock. He had relented, shrugging off his shirt, squirming against the taller boy as they toppled onto the bed, arms and legs entangled.

_You like it rough don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. Such a slut for it._

What happened after is mostly a blur. It had the faded resonance of a dream, but at the same time, felt startlingly real. His bedside drawer is open, its contents strewn across the floor, save for a couple of condom wrappers and a half-empty bottle of lube. He fishes out his phone from the bottom of his school bag. The screen lights up, alerting him of the five missed calls from Jonas and three from Magnus.

To: Jonas 7:47  
What the hell happened last night? When did I leave?

Fr: Jonas: 7:51  
Around 11? You said you were leaving with Even. You were completely trashed, bro.

To: Jonas 7:52  
How much did I drink?

Fr: Jonas 7.54  
Way too much, clearly :D

Something doesn’t feel right. His head is swimming, the usual symptoms of a really bad hangover, but he doesn’t recall drinking more than two beers. Maybe Jonas would be able to provide him with some answers.

To: Jonas 7.57  
Meet me in the courtyard after first period. Gotta tell you something.


	2. Chapter 2

Isak has never been in a situation in his life where he was required to throw a punch, and needless to say, he is slightly taken aback by the burst of pain that blossoms in his knuckles, as his fist connects with Even’s cheekbone, sending him stumbling backwards into a group of first years. Even looks startled, for once, mouth gaping in disbelief as he attempts to get back on his feet. But once he does, he lunges at Isak like an animal, sending them both sprawling to the ground, clawing at each other’s faces. Even clocks him on the mouth, and metal spreads across his tongue like wildfire. Adrenaline ricochets through his system, and he whips around to retaliate.

Out of nowhere, a body crashes into him, pinning him to the ground. It’s Jonas, grabbing hold of his arms and telling him to shut up. He cries out, screaming a series of profanities as he thrashes against Jonas’s death grip, to no avail. Being so small and scrawny had its disadvantages, especially against Jonas six-pack poster boy Vasquez. Sirens are wailing outside, causing a stampede. Everyone is pushing and shoving, trying to get out before the cops break in.

_Fuck, we’re totally screwed._

The cops start going through the motions and start nterviewing several drunk first years and they all say the same thing. That he attacked Even out of nowhere, that didn’t see it coming. Like some feral animal that needed to be locked up. Isak bites down on his lip hard, almost drawing blood and keeping his head down as handcuffs are clamped down on his wrists. Through the neon-speckled windows of the police car, he sees Even among the horde of drunken students, a look of fathomless pity of coloring his expression. He flashes him a bloody grin, savoring a final glance at the splash of molted purple on Even’s elegant cheekbones.

“You gotta learn how to keep your cool, man.” The cop driving remarks lazily, as they pull out of the driveway. “Was he dancing with your girl or something?”

He almost laughs, irony bitter on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah. That’s what it was.”

 

**10 days before the incident**

  
Jonas is waiting by the school gates, pacing around in circles, thumbing out a text on his phone. He glances up when Isak approaches, quizzical frown tugging at his lips.

“You alright man? You seem a little edgy.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I need to talk to you about last night. What was I doing before I left with Even?”

“You guys were just chatting and dancing. And then Chris the penetrator came over and handed you some drinks. You downed all of them, started slurring your words and leaning on random strangers. Even took you home shortly after.”

Isak felt numb. Chris and Even had had a fling this time last year, but Even swore that it was over. If Chris had slipped him something, what would that even mean? That he had residual feelings for Even? Did he suspect that there was something going on between them? He paused, going through the relatively long list of narcotics that he had sampled in his lifetime. Loss of memory. Dizziness. Confusion. It had to be ecstasy. “The love pill”, as it’s often referred to, heightens perceptions of color and sound and supposedly amplifies sensations when touching or caressing another, particularly during…sex.

He had only tried it once, when he was making out with Emma, the bitter pill melting between their tongues. It was incredible; everything was bathed in a warm, golden light. Every worry that cluttered his head suddenly felt trivial, as if nothing mattered anymore and he didn’t have a single care in the world. In his drug-addled mind, he was almost convinced that he loved her.

“Right. Thanks. I’ll see you after class.”

Jonas regards him carefully, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Sure. Isak, just remember that, if you ever need to talk-”

He kicks at a pebble, sending it skipping across the yard. “I know.”

*

The third period bell sounds, sending a throng of students out the door and towards the cafeteria. Isak leans up against his locker, hood up, hands buried deep in his pockets, wide eyes sifting through the masses. They finally land on a lanky third year with tousled hair and iridescent eyes, and he has to bite down a grin. Isak winces a little at the rough punch in the arm he receives from Even as a greeting, but the sheer joy pulsing through his veins, the high just from walking by his side, obliterates even the tiniest inclination of protest.

They grab cheese sandwiches at the cafeteria, settling for mustard and ketchup, seeing as there isn’t any cardamom, and Even draws a smiley face on Isak’s slab of cheddar. The seats in the cafeteria are mostly taken up, so they head for the benches outside, slightly damp from the morning rain. They eat in silence for a while, occasionally remarking on the weather and the upcoming finals.

“So did you speak to Sonja earlier?” Isak asks, to break the tension. “After you left?”

“Yeah.” He rakes a hand through his hair, lost in thought. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. She knows, Isak, about us. I don’t know how or when, but she does. And she isn’t happy about it.”

Isak puts his sandwich down, suddenly not particularly hungry anymore. “What did you tell her?”

“I denied it, obviously. Said we were just friends. I mean, that’s what we are, right?”

“Friends who fuck each other and lie about it, apparently.”

He hates the fact that Sonja was the one and only constant in their tumultuous relationship. The shadow of a third wheel that destroyed any progress made between the two of them. And that any mention of her instantly drew clouds above them and ignited absurdly petty arguments that lasted for hours.

“That’s not fair. Sonja and I have been together for _years_. Childhood sweethearts, or whatever you want to call it. I won’t do anything that jeopardizes that. And I’m not even sure that I swing _that way_. I care about you, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not sure if I’m, you know-”

“You can’t even say the damn word.”

“Gay.” He spits out the word, like its something filthy. Their eyes meet and the blue in Even’s eyes is ice cold, making them look almost slate gray.

He felt like he was speaking to two different people sometimes, both sentient beings living within Even’s body. He liked to think that the confidence and unfaltering smiles he presented to the world was only half of a whole, and that the darkness that lay dormant beneath his skin, was only barely contained by his cheap façade. There are times when he wonders what would happen if he coaxed it out of its cage, lure it into the light and unleash it upon the world.

“Call me when you figure it out.” Isak says, dumping the uneaten sandwich in the trash and starting off towards the main block. “Or don’t.”


	3. Chapter 3

Isak spends the entire ride to the police station in a delirious trance. The city lights passing in the window coagulate into a bright rainbow pool, the mass of colors from the houses and lamps swirling into one. People on the streets morph into strange shapes, their silhouettes twisting in the shadows. His hands and feet feel oddly numb, and he can’t stop shivering, despite the fact that there’s heating in the car turned to full blast. He cranes his neck to get a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, and his breath hitches. The whites of his eyes are inflamed, his skin deathly pale.

A female officer drags him out of the car and shines a torch in his eyes. “Dilated pupils. Clammy skin. He can’t even walk straight.”

“This one’s definitely high.” The cop that was driving says. “Probably had some alcohol too. Another stupid Russ party. Third one I had to bust this week.”

“I’m taking him to the medic. Probably a heroin overdose, judging by the symptoms.”

He is ushered into a cold, sterile room, the strong scent of disinfectant permeating the air. The blood and urine test take about fifteen minutes and then the cops are back, bombarding him with a flurry of questions about regarding his age and history with narcotics. He can hear the medic informing them about the needle markings on his arm.

“What school are you from?”

“Hartvig Nissen.”

“Do you have a dealer for those drugs?”

“No, they weren’t mine.” He slurs. The bright lights were worsening his headache; the pain now resembled shards of glass being inserted into the back of skull. “I…found them. In my closet.”

“Any idea who might have left them there?”

This was his opportunity to finally get Chris busted. For everything he had done.

“Yeah. Christoffer Schistad. He’s a third year at my school.”

“That is a serious accusation, Isak. Are you absolutely positive?”

“Yeah.” His vision is darkening fast, the chair below him slipping away. “I’m sure.”

“Your principal will be informed of this incident. We will be recommending suspension followed by weekly visits to the school counselor-“

Suddenly, an excruciating pain blossoms in his stomach and he doubles over, coughing. His muscles are twitching, searing with heat, sending him crashing onto the ground.

There’s a screech of metal against tiled flooring as the officers rise to the feet. Somewhere in the distant he hears pounding on the door, coupled with shouting. The cool tiled flooring feels unbelievably good against his flushed cheeks, and he lies there, curled up in a fetal position as his body fights against the tremors rocketing through his system. Amidst the chaos, he makes out Even’s voice, clipped and panicky, pleading with the cops to let him in. He clings on to the concern in the other boy’s tone, holding the sweet melody of it within the confines of his aching ribs, as he sinks into the black.

 

**7 days before the incident**

A day after, lying on the bed with an empty bottle of Jack and an empty bottle of painkillers lying side by side on the nearest table, Isak begins to wonder if he had made a mistake.

Being in love with Even was like falling into a fathomless pit. Once you were in, there was no getting out. Every once in a while, the promise of escape would manifest itself, shifting forms each time. But light had been too jarring, blinding almost, after months of living within the shadows. And he always retreated back into the dark.

There’s a rap on his door, shaking him out of his stupor. Followed by another. He’s just about to yell at whomever it is to get lost when Eskild stumbles into the room, eyes lined with kohl and sporting a 70s disco top and skintight leather pants.

“Yo, I need to borrow your bottle opener. And some lube too, if you don’t mind.”

“Help yourself.” Isak gestures to the desk area and Eskild immediately starts rooting through the drawers, tossing aside notebooks and pens, scattering them across the floor. “Another party later?”

“You know I love you, right?” Eskild winks. “Just a few guys. Nothing too elaborate. Wanna join?”

“I’ll pass.” He says, pulling the duvet over his head.

“You’re moodier than usual. Is it Even again? Did you two have ‘the talk’?”

The end of the bed dips a little as Eskild climbs on, rubbing his back through the thick material.

“No. It’s hard to have ‘the talk’ when one party is stuck in perpetual denial. He told me the morning after we spent the night together that he wasn’t sure if he was a hundred percent gay.”

“Well, may I remind you that you were in this exact same situation just a few weeks back? Give the boy some time.”

“We slept together. Is that not evidence enough?”

Eskild yanks the duvet off his head; moving to lie down by his side and wrapping the sheets around himself like a cocoon.

“Sexuality is a fluid thing. You can’t pressure someone into picking an extreme for your own selfish reasons. Maybe he swings both ways.”

“Great. That’s just brilliant.” He turns to his side, facing the wall.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Eskild says. “If he’s really into you, you’ll know.”

“Thanks, you know, for the advice.”

“Always here for you, little bro.” Eskild grins and leans forward, tapping his cheek. “How about a kiss for your guru?”

*

When Isak had first downloaded the Grindr app, he never imagined that he’d be using it almost on a daily basis. The messages he received were all highly sexual in nature, asking if he was a top or bottom and if he preferred bears or twinks. At that point, Isak had taken to Google to figure out the meanings of certain terminology used, but he had come a long way since then.

He had started chatting with Chris on the app a few weeks ago, when they barely knew each other in real life. Isak had seen him around at parties, usually surrounded by throngs of women. That was signal in itself, and naturally Isak was slightly taken aback to see his profile pop up on the hottest gay hook up app.

His fingers had hovered over his phone screen. Chris was gorgeous, blue eyes and a lithe, athletic frame. Nothing compared to Even, of course, but he could use a distraction. Their messages had been friendly at first, before escalating into something deeper. Lustful and desperate, to the point where he got a little freaked out and started ignoring Chris’ messages altogether.

He is about to go to bed when his phone chimes, alerting him of a new message from Chris.

Fr: Chris 23:34  
Hey, are you alone?

To: Chris 23:36  
Yeah

Fr: Chris 23:38  
Me too. Could use some company;)

He pauses, staring at the words. He’s angry, at Even for treating him like crap and at himself for taking it. Chris had always made him feel wanted, like he was special and beautiful, and not some additional burden. There was a new hollowness that had settled in the pit of his stomach, spreading towards his extremities. He craved the touch of another, intimacy with no strings attached.

To: Chris 23:45  
I can drop by your place. Address?

Chris is waiting for him on the sidewalk outside his apartment, lighting a cigarette, orange flames dancing in his eyes. He grins when Isak approaches, offering him a quick drag before stamping it out on the ground.

The second the door slams shut, Chris is on him, hands pulling his shirt off, crushing his lips to his. He can taste tequila on Chris’s tongue, and he sucks at it greedily. They stumble upstairs to the bedroom, depositing the rest of their clothes on the stairs.

Chris begins rooting his drawers and pulls out a packet of white powder. He pours the coke out and starts separating it into lines with a ruler on his desk.

“Some of this to kick things off?”

Isak reaches for his wallet for a 20-dollar bill, and rolling it up into a makeshift straw. He snorts hard, feeling the fine powder hit the back his throat, as the room explodes into Technicolor.

They crash onto the bed, limbs entangled. Chris slides the condom on under the sheets, pushing into him slowly, waiting for Isak to loosen up before easing his entire length in. It feels amazing, the harsh rhythm of Chris thrusting, and he digs the heels of his feet into the small of Chris’ back. But when he shuts his eyes, its Even on top of him, hair damp with sweat, irises dark with lust, sculpted body glistening in the half-light. The image alone tips him over the edge, tremors ripping through his system as he climaxes, the intensity of it making him bite down hard on Chris’ shoulder.

“Ow, what was that for?” Chris exclaims, rolling over on his back and reaching across for a cigarette. He grins when he notices the look on Isak’s face.

“Mind-blowing orgasm? I get that a lot. From chicks too.”

“So you’re bi?”

“Girls, boys. Can’t really tell the difference after a few drinks.” He winks. “So yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Isak doesn’t respond, lying flat on hid back and gazing up at the ceiling.

“I’ve always had my eye on you, you know. Guess I have a soft spot with pretty blonde boys with snapbacks. Couldn’t believe my luck when we matched on Grindr.” He moves closer, nuzzling against Isak’s chest and pressing a kiss to his neck. “Why the hell are you even hanging around that Even guy? He has a girlfriend, doesn’t he?”  


Isak nods once, and Chris sighs.

“Something tells me you’re not just the friendly third wheel.”

This wasn’t a conversation he ever imagined having with Christoffer Schistad, naked in his bed. Before it got any weirder, he attempts a change of subject.

“You got anything else besides the coke?”

Chris is slightly taken aback, a sly smile pulling at his lips, shimmying into his boxer short as he reaches under the bed, retrieving a small wooden box containing an array of needles and loosely bundled packs of heroin. From the bottom of the box, he pulls out a lighter and a metal spoon.

“Hey, I meant ecstasy or marijuana or something.”

His body had never reacted well to heroin and he wasn’t about to take any chances, especially since he had blacked out for two days the last time he tried it.

“What, are you a fucking pussy?” Chris scoffs, biting back a laugh.

“No, I just…I gotta go.” He grabs his clothes from off the floor and throws them on, before rushing out the front door, struggling to shake the feeling of Chris’ eyes raking up and down and his back the entire way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments so far! I'll try to update at least once a week for now on. The dual timeline is a little tricky to write as i have to make sure that everything falls into place, so i'm keeping a really detailed drafts of what happens in each chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and the next one will be up soon.
> 
> More information regarding juvenile drug use in Norway:  
> http://www.emcdda.europa.eu/countries/norway


	4. Chapter 4

A loud beeping noise by Isak's bedside shakes him from a restless slumber. Groggily, he tries to reach for his alarm clock but the bedside table is empty. Then it all comes tumbling back. The blistering heat in his brain, shivering from the cold. The drugs.

His surroundings are lit in the same austere fluorescent as the police station, pungent disinfectant permeating the air. He looks down to find himself wearing a hospital gown, an IV drip taped to his right arm.

Just as he was about to get up, a reedy looking doctor clutching a keyboard enters the board.

“Whoa, you’re not going anywhere for the next three days, young man.” He shakes his head, and makes a note on his clipboard.

“Where am I?”

“Diakonhjemmet Hospital. The inpatient rehabilitation unit for drugs and alcohol, to be exact. You’ve suffered a mild seizure last night, and you were brought here by the officers on shift. When you have fully recuperated, we’ll begin making arrangements for your weekly appointments with our adolescent psychologists.”

“I don’t need to be in rehab. It won’t happen again.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow. “You can’t afford to have another relapse. It’s your senior year next year, isn’t it?”

He looks down, unable to think of a reply. The tiny purple needle marks adorning his arm are stinging from some salve that has been applied to it.

The doctor eyes him sympathetically and he claps a hand to his shoulder. “Alcohol and heroin are a lethal combination. We have lost many patients that way. There are always other ways to cope with your problems. Whatever you’re going through right now, it isn’t the end of the world.”

He nods, the words twisting into a knot in his chest. No adult has ever spoken to him that way before, like they believed in him. He wonders if that was how it felt to have parents that actually cared about his wellbeing.

*

“He lives!” Jonas announces as he barrels into the ward, flinging his arms around Isak, followed by Magnus and Mahdi. “I knew you would pull through, man.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It was just an overdose.” He rolls his eyes, and turns to peer into a carrier bag that Magnus places beside him. “What’s this?”

“A change of clothes for you.” Magnus answers. “And some broth. Courtesy of Noora and Eskild.”

“Oh, I won’t be here for long.”

“That was some pretty badass action last night, bro.” laughs Mahdi, clocking him in the arm. “You really let him have it.”

“Yeah, I was high so…” He clears his throat. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Nonsense.” Jonas says, plopping down on the edge of the bed. “He’s been playing you for weeks. And then he gets back with his girlfriend out of nowhere? The bastard deserved what he got.”

“Is he alright?” Isak asks, trying not to sound overly worried.

“Heard that he disappeared after the cops showed up. His friends haven’t heard from him since.”

Isak’s blood runs cold. “What do you mean he disappeared?”

Jonas, Mahdi and Magnus exchange looks.

“Maybe he decided to skip town for a few days?” Jonas suggests.

“It hasn’t been 24 hours yet so we can’t put out a missing person report.” Magnus adds, eyes on his phone as he scrolls through several Facebook notifications. “Shit, look at this.”

It was a picture of a bloodied up Yakuza member, taken next to the school’s courtyard taken by a second year. According to the caption, he had been found at dawn unconscious and with a broken nose.

“It says that several people saw Even at the scene.” Magnus says.

They all turn to Isak, wary understanding coloring their expressions.

“Don’t even think about it, man.” Mahdi says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Try and stop me.” Isak responds, ripping the IV right out of his arm and grabbing his coat.

 

**5 days before the incident**

Isak yanks open his locker, almost hitting himself in the face after multiple attempts. An assortment of drugs fall out, and he scrambles to pick them up, stowing them back into the locker away from faculty view. He dumps the weed into a trashcan opposite school, and after a moment of deliberation, shoves the heroin into his backpack. There’s a letter too, right at the back of the locker. He opens it, revealing a comic, with text underneath to illustrate the drawings.

_In this universe, Even is a complete douchebag and Isak dumps him._

_In a parallel world, Isak gives Even another chance._

He flips the note over.

_Meet me at the third floor chemistry lab during lunchtime._

*

As soon as the lunch bell rings, Isak darts up the stairs, looking back every few seconds to make sure no one was tailing him. Gingerly, he pushes open the door to the chemistry lab, to find Even lounging on the teacher’s desk, examining a few beakers. He grins as Isak enters, reaching in his bag for a wrapped sandwich and tossing it over.

“For the inconvenience.” He says, eyes twinkling, and not looking the least bit apologetic.

“Thanks.” Isak unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. Cream cheese and ham from the overpriced deli across the road. Even always had an uncanny ability to predict his cravings.

"Seriously, I want to make it up to you." Even says. "I've been under a lot of pressure lately. I guess I haven't exactly been the best boyfriend."

Isak's cheeks heat up. "Boyfriend?"

"I suppose that's the appropriate term for what we are?"

"But Sonja-"

Even places a finger over his lips. "Let's not talk about her right now."

Isak takes a sip of water, feeling the heat spread to his neck as Even's eyes trail down from his lips to his exposed collarbone.

“So what were you up to yesterday?”

“Hung out with Chris at his place.”

“Did you guys…?”

“Yeah.” He says, tone icy. “It was good.”

Even’s eyes are clouded with something toxic, as he takes a drag from his cigarette. “He’s using you.”

“How’s that different from what you’re doing?”

“We’re figuring things out, Isak. Is that so wrong?” His hand trembles a little, the cigarette almost slipping through his fingers. His mask was cracking, peeling away to reveal the frightened boy beneath.

There was nothing overtly wrong with the words, but Isak didn’t like the way he said them, with the same calm, cautious tone people use when they want to let someone down slowly, turning a ‘no’ into a ‘not right now’. He was sick of being a lap dog.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and digs his fingernails into his palms.

“Look, I’m just going to come clean. I can’t do this anymore. I fucking hate that I have feelings for you. Feelings that aren’t going to go away anytime soon. So it’s hard to be around you when I don’t have a clue where I stand.”

Even looks up, eyes rimmed with red, and Isak wants nothing more than to throw his arms around him, kiss his tears away, press their bodies together till the individual staccato of their pulses merge into one.

“No one can know about us.” He whispers. “It’ll destroy me. You don’t know what my friends are like.”

“Yeah, homophobic assholes, big surprise. Well, you don’t have to worry, there isn’t an us anymore.”

Even flinches as if Isak had slapped him across the face.

“I love you, Isak.” Even’s voice is barely above a whisper. He beckons, and Isak takes a step closer. There’s lust in Even’s eyes, as he traces his knuckles across Isak’s cheekbones, and leans in, till their faces are mere millimeters apart. Isak’s breath hitches in his chest as Even’s lips graze across his, light as a feather. A small moan escapes from his lips, and he unclenches his teeth, allowing Even to ravage his mouth with his tongue.

It’s wrong and Isak knows it. Every cell in his body screaming in protest at Even’s touch, and yet he can’t move a muscle. But some part of his brain is telling him that this may be it. The moment Even finally realizes that he couldn’t have the same feelings for a girl than he did for Isak. It’ll be an epic confession, like in one of those Baz Lurhman films Even was so crazy about.

Isak tilts his head up, throwing his arms around Even’s neck, pulling him closer so that their chests and hips were aligned. He shivers as Even runs a finger over the exposed skin of his hipbone, just above the waistband of his jeans, before closing on the hem of his shirt.

The door creaks and Even leaps off table, shoving Isak off him into the first row of desks, the force almost knocking him over. They both freeze, listening to the footsteps retreat and Even breathes a sigh of relief, turning to look at Isak.

“Isak, wait-” Even starts, reaching for Isak’s arm, but Isak ducks out of his reach, hot tears blurring his vision as he tears out of the room and down the corridor.

*

In a cubicle in the boy’s bathroom, Isak sits on top of the toilet, with the lid down, legs pulled up to his chest. He scrolls through the messages from Even, each one more desperate than the last.

Fr: Even 13.10  
Please, Isak. I need to know if you’re alright.

Fr: Even 13:12  
I freaked out, okay? I thought it was a teacher or something.

5 Missed Calls  
Fr: Even 13:16  
CALL ME. I'm begging you.

*

It’s almost impossible to walk down the corridors without having the sight of Even hanging around with a million other girls burned into his retinas. Some of them are real, and some of them are just figments of his imagination, Even lookalikes invading his peripheral vision. He keeps his eyes on the linoleum flooring, scuffing his sneakers as he speed walks down the hallway.

 

*

Drizzly Wednesday afternoon. He sits at the bar stool at the coffee place just around the corner.

“Hey.” He turns around, to see Sonja coming up behind him, a takeaway latte in her hand. “Is this seat taken?”

“No.”

“So this is awkward.” She starts. “But I kinda need to talk to you.”

“Don’t bother. It’s over between Even and I.”

“Yeah, I know. I figured it out. He was acting all weird yesterday. Erratic and panicky. Said he needed to talk to you but you weren’t picking up his calls.”

“Look, if you’re trying to get me to talk to him—“

“God, no.” She rolls her eyes. “The last I want is my boyfriend reconciling with the guy he’s been cheating on me with. I’ve put up with that for way too long and I’m just glad it’s over.”

She pauses for a while, gauging his reaction before continuing.

“But I’m worried about him. You don’t know him like I do, despite how much he’s confided in you. He’s sensitive. Volatile. When he feels like he’s made a mistake, he goes completely off tangent, throwing things around and shouting. I tried talking to him, but it’s like I can’t reach him.”

There’s a plea for help in her tone that he chooses to ignore.

“It’s over between us.” He repeats, stirring his coffee and avoiding eye contact.

“I thought you guys were more than that.” She says, acid lacing her voice. “I’ve always taken comfort in the fact that he had you, even if he didn’t give a damn about me. Guess I was wrong.”

With that, she grabs her bag and cup of coffee and storms out of the door.

He sits there, a new rage sizzling within him. He hated Even. He _hated_ him. For being so damn obsessed about his social status that he'd forgo everything that was ever real between them. There was a word for that. A fucking _hypocrite._

Suddenly, something in him snaps. He reaches for his phone, opening his camera roll and scrolling through the hundreds of pictures. There were countless images of him and Even, shirtless in bed, giddy smiles frozen on their faces. Selfies of Even kissing him on the cheek. Artsy photos of Even lying out on the deck in his apartment, a platter of cheese and grapes balancing on his lap.

Without a second thought, he opens his fake email account and attaches the folder to a new email, checking the Nissen online gossip forum for the address of the most notorious hacker, before clicking send. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is particularly long as I deviated a little from my fic plan to add in more details, like the scene with Sonja so the dynamic between her and Isak would be clearer. Anyway, the next few chapters will be focused on reconciliation between Isak and Even so get ready for some much needed fluff! As always, thanks for reading and let me know in the comments what you'd like to see in the coming chapters!! :D


	5. Chapter 5

The winter air is freezing, cutting across Isak’s face in icy lashes as he dashes down the street, coat wrapped around him. He had to literally wrestle both Jonas and Magnus to the ground before they stopped to listen to him. They didn’t understand how dangerous for Even to be missing on his own. He could hurt himself badly, or even worse, Isak shudders at the thought. He couldn’t bear to leave things the way that they did. When he closes his eyes, he can still see Even’s face, wide-eyed and vulnerable, and it sends a new ache right to the center of his chest. The two-storey houses that lined Even’s street all looked the same in the dark, and he walked back and forth a few times before finding the right one.

He raps on the door a few times. No response. It’s 3am, his roommates are all probably asleep. He knocks harder, almost rattling the doorframe.

To: Even 3:11  
Are you at home? Call me back. I’m worried.

3 Missed Calls

To: Even 3:13  
I need to speak to you. This isn’t over.

Defeated, he slumps against the doorstep of the apartment. Sonja had warned him that Even may do something drastic, and he had ignored her. It wasn’t always like this. They had some great times. Last summer, they rented a cabin all to themselves and spent three whole days lounging around in bed, watching movies. Even had forced him to watch Baz Lurhman’s entire filmography in one sitting, and he had complained and rolled his eyes, but secretly found each film to be wildly romantic. Lovers risking it all to be with each other. He had yearned for the day when they would be able to do that. To hell with the rest of the world. But real life wasn’t anything like the movies.

The day they first met was something out of a dream. Isak couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful new boy, and at some point, he started looking back. They had become visible to each other, and that was a miracle in itself. Somehow, Isak assumed that the dream would never end, and that their love was impenetrable, if they both kept a blind eye to the outside world. Even kept their relationship a secret from Sonja, and as soon as she found out, it all fell to pieces.

To: Even 3:20  
It doesn’t end like this between us.

He thinks about their first conversation, flirty and slightly awkward. His hard was thumping so hard in his chest that he was pretty sure that Even could hear it. Shoulders bumping into each other, as they sat side by side on that tiny wooden bench. The bench. He stumbles to his feet, almost dropping his phone. Even always told him to meet there in his letters. Maybe he left a clue. Without wasting another second, he runs out of the apartment complex, straight down to the park.

*

He takes awhile to uncover the message, hidden underneath scrawls and scratches all over the unpolished wood. After a few minutes of shining his phone torch on every visible surface of wood, he notices two words scratched on the bottom of the seat with a penknife.

_Bygdoy. Radisson Hotel._

He had some money saved up for emergencies and this definitely counted as one. There was a ferry that left for Bygdoy every evening. He should be able to make it there just after sunset if he started packing and booking now.

Veins buzzing with the spontaneity and insanity of it all, he gets to his feet and dashes back down the street.

 

**3 days before incident**

Isak always knew that scandals spread like wildfire at Nissen, but he had never gotten an opportunity to be part of one. Popularity plummets and statuses rise, depending on which end of the social spectrum you’re at. Just a couple of days after sending over the images, he started to realize just how grave of a mistake he had made.

He is about to head over to fifth period chemistry when he overhears angry hushed whispers coming from an empty classroom. Curious, he walks over, keeping his footsteps silent as he leans up against the doorframe. It’s Sonja, he realizes with horror, and Even.

“Is this a fucking joke?” Even says. “You know he’s just looking for attention.”

“You’re a fucking selfish bastard, you know that.” Sonja replies. He has never heard her sound so upset, voice thick with tears. “My friends all think that I’m the most pathetic person alive. Being completely unaware of the fact that my boyfriend was fucking another guy right under my nose.”

“Christ, Sonja.” A scrape of metal against the tiled flooring. “Please don’t do this.”

“What’s worse is that I knew all along. And I didn’t do a damn thing about it.”

“He’s nothing to me, okay? It was a mistake.” He listens to Even step forward, presumably reaching out to Sonja.

“Don’t you dare touch me.” Her voice is hollow, emotionless, and it sends chills up Isak’s spine. “We’re done.”

He ducks around the corner, as Sonja leaves the room, slamming the door behind her. There’s a brief silence, the awful lull before the storm, and then the window closest to his ear shatters. It’s followed by a cacophony of tables being overturned and chairs being toppled. When it’s all over, he listens to Even sobbing, a heart wrenching wail that cuts deep into his soul.

 

*

After school, Isak spends the afternoon scrolling through Facebook, wading through the never ending lists of messages and spam pictures that he has been tagged in. He had bailed on Jonas and the guys on their usual Friday night pizza and beer hangouts at his place. He just needed some time alone. His friends made it clear that outing Even was great on his part and he was grateful for their support, but there was some part of him that felt nothing but regret.

There were mixed feelings about the scandal between him and Even among the student population. Some hurled abuse at him through social media while others thought they he was brave for going public. Not many were aware that Even wasn’t in on this little plan of his, and how uncomfortably awkward it was when someone made a comment to either of them about how cute of a couple they were when the other was in earshot.

It occurs to him that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to in this matter. Eskild was out with friends, and he didn’t really understand the complexity of his relationship with Even. Even wasn’t just another hookup for him. Despite their recent shortcomings, Isak just could never shake the feeling that he could be the one.

But everything was different now. With every passing second, he becomes more convinced that the damage he had done might be irreparable.

A bubble pops up on the corner of his dashboard, notifying him that Chris had come online.

 

 **Isak:**  
Hey you free?

 **Chris:**  
Yeah what’s up? Heard you and Neisheim went public.

 **Isak:**  
News travels fast.

 **Chris:**  
Pretty ballsy. Never knew you had it in you.

 **Isak:**  
There are loads things you don’t know about me:)

 **Chris:**  
The prettiest ones always have the darkest secrets.

 

 **Isak:**  
Wanna come over?

 **Chris:**  
Be there in 10.

 

*

The sex was good as always, slow and sensual this time instead of the usual rough pounding that probably woke the neighbors. He climaxes quickly, with Chris pressing kisses down his collarbone as he rides out the last of the spasms.

“So what made you do it?” Chris asks, rolling off him to dispose of the used condom.

“I was sick of him keeping me on his leash.” Isak sighs. He was so sick of talking about Even. It was like a never-ending cycle of events that constantly looped back on itself. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Jeez, chill.” Chris laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I know what will make you feel better.”

He leans over to grab his overnight bag off the floor, retrieving a lighter and a small pack of heroin, along with several sheets of aluminum foil.

“No- I don’t think I should.”

The off white powder in the small plastic bag looked relatively harmless. It had been a while since he had done hard drugs, and he always stuck with cocaine. But it was late and his insomnia had been getting worse these few days. His veins ached in longing just from the thought of getting high.

“Come on.” Chris rolls up a piece of foil into a tube and hands it to him, sprinkling a healthy dose of heroin onto another piece of foil and lighting it from the bottom. “It’ll go to waste.”

Isak leans over with the tube and gives the fumes a tentative drag. A whirlwind of color explodes behind his eyes, throwing the room into disarray. He takes another drag. Then another.

He loses track of time, the flare of pain and discontent miles away from his reach. The only tangible sensation is Chris’ fingers tracing circles on his chest and stomach.

“I love him.” He slurs, tongue numb and leaden. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

The room distorts, colors fading to black. Somewhere in between light and dark he hears Chris laughing, sweet acidity cloying thick in the air as he leans over him.

“You did the right thing.”

*

  
Even isn’t at school the next day. Isak keeps a look out for him during sixth period Norwegian, which was the only class they had together. As if on instinct, he turns around whenever someone opened the door, a strange flutter in his stomach. Finally, the bell sounds, signifying the end of class and there was still no sign of Even.

At the end of day, as he is making way down his usual path, he notices a certain commotion coming from the back alley a few blocks away. He assumes that its just another interrogation by the Yakuzas, but curiosity gets the better of him and he walks over to have a look.

Even is surrounded. The gang of Yakuza members taking turns to throw a punch or shove him against the brick wall. Realizing that he is standing out in the open where the gang members may take notice of him at any moment, he darts off to the side and crouches behind some shrubbery.

“Fucking faggot.” One of them says through gritted teeth, shoving him hard and he falls to the ground.

“I said back off.” Even says quietly, eyes ablaze with something wild and violent.

They move forward, pinning him to the ground as they start pounding his face, blood splattering across the pavement. Even doesn’t move a muscle, just lies there and takes it. Every fibre of Isak’s body wants to run over and tear each of them apart, but he can’t move his limbs.

At some point, Even looks over to the bushes where Isak is crouched and their eyes lock. There is no anger or betrayal in Even’s eyes, or even sadness. Emotionless. Devoid of the joy and laughter that he had become so accustomed to. Isak waits for the onset of anger to take over, to force him out of hiding and go to Even’s aid. But it doesn’t come. He lingers on the scene for a second longer, before getting up and walking off without a glance backwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The incident' refers to the fight Even and Isak got into in Chapter one. 'Days before the incident' are the events leading up to that fight. Just thought i'd clarify that as the dual timeline may get a bit confusing.


	6. Chapter 6

**2 days after incident**

The ferry ride was shorter than expected, and the ferry docked at the terminal of Bygdoy just after the first crack of dawn. Isak had never been to the peninsula before, just ten minutes away from central Oslo, and he takes some time to stroll around the quaint streets, lined with rows of shop houses, right beside the lake.

The lobby of The Radisson was sleek and sophisticated, decked out with mostly modern décor and filled with hordes of business people and couples on honeymoon bustling about with trolleys of luggage and chatting excitedly. Isak couldn’t help but feel a little out of place with his backpack and scuffed sneakers, and the fact that he was alone didn’t help either. It was oddly nerve wracking, to once again be at Even’s mercy, waiting to go back up to his hotel room. He assumed that Even would never want to see him again, after what he had done. But Even was always completely unpredictable, that was one the things Isak loved about him. Maybe they would finally have a chance to work things out.

He gets in line at the counter, his mind conjuring up several different scenarios of how the situation would play out. Maybe it was all just some sick prank to get revenge? Isak felt ill just at the thought. There was no way this could be a set up. Even wouldn’t do that him.

The lady at the check in counter gives him a strange stare when he tells her Even’s name, dialing his room number for a quick verification before handing over the key card.

Room 252. He takes the lift up to the second floor, dizzy with anticipation as he walks down the carpeted corridor, rapping on the hard wood door twice. Nothing. He knocks again, harder this time.

The door swings open, and Isak nearly jumps out of his skin. Even is standing in the doorway, shirtless and freshly showered, eyes glittering with the start of a smile.

“You came.” He grins, as Isak maneuvers around him and steps into the room.

The suite was lavishly decorated, with maroon couches and a huge king sized bed which had sheets threaded with gold detailing. Clothes were strewn around the floor, along with a few half empty bottles of scotch.

“Um, yeah.” Isak replies, feeling slightly awkward at the strangeness of the situation. “You knew I would.”

“I had my doubts. You know. After everything.”

“I shouldn’t have posted the pictures. I was angry and-“ Isak lets out a shuddering breath, feeling tears stinging the back of his eyes.

Even steps forward, circling his arms around Isak, holding him close to his chest. Isak shivers, unable to think about anything except the scent of Even’s aftershave and the warmth of his body against his.

“I was a jerk.” Even says, voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t deserve all that.”

“Does Sonja know you’re here?”

Even hesitates. “No. We’re…not together anymore.”

“Oh. That’s, uh--” He fumbles for the right word that would conceal his relief. “That’s good. If that’s what you want.”

Even raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you and Chris sort of a thing now?”

“He tried to set me up.” Isak confesses. “Stashed a whole bunch of cocaine in my closet the other night when he came over. I told the cops about it and mentioned him by name so they should be on his tail as we speak.”

Even looks at him, eyes searching his. He had a hypnotizing quality about him, that made Isak want to spill his darkest secrets whenever they were alone.

“Why am I not surprised?” He mutters, going over to the table and pouring out two glasses of scotch.

“What do you mean?”

“Chris and I dated once, just for a couple months. We kept it quiet and no one really knew about it, not even Sonja. He tried to get me into hard drugs, but I said no. I couldn’t get into drugs, my mental state was terrible enough at the time. I told him that if he didn’t stop, I would break up with him. He didn’t, so I called it quits. He didn’t take it too well, started spreading rumors about me, telling everyone I was gay. No one believed him, of course. He didn’t have any evidence. But ever since then, he’s been trying to get back at me by hooking up with guys that he thinks I’m into.”

At those words, Isak couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Chris may have been just a distraction, but he genuinely believed that he cared about him. To some extent. It was a blow to realize that someone that he considered to be both a friend and confidante had played him like a puppet.

“He kept pushing me into doing heroin with him.” Isak says, the words feeling dirty on the edge of his tongue. “After we had sex.”

Even’s eyes flash with something akin to anger, just for the briefest moment before sizzling out into sympathy.

“I’m sorry. That I wasn’t there for you.”

“I had to get away. To clear my head. After you leaked those pictures, my life literally became a living hell.”

“I’m sorry.”

They remain quiet for a while, the words they can’t bring themselves to say trapped in the space between them. They both knew what the other was thinking. That Even was beaten up in front of Isak and he turned his back on him.

“God, this isn’t going as planned.” He drags a hand through his tousled hair in frustration and slams down the glass of scotch. “I asked you to come here because I wanted to tell you how I really feel.”

Isak’s heart skips a beat. Even steps forward, grabbing the sides of Isak’s face, cradling it in his hands.

“I love you, Isak Valtersen.” He says, face flushed with alcohol and eyes brimming with so much emotion that Isak feels dizzy just looking at him. He had dreamt of this moment ever since they first met. Even saying those three words to him.

“Love you too.” Isak hears himself say. It sounds distant and muted, like he’s listening to himself through a wall of plexiglass.

Even’s hands fall away and he stumbles over to the window.

“I was there at the station…I needed to see you. But they wouldn’t let me in.” Even was mumbling, slurring his words. He spins around violently, miscalculating the distance between himself and Isak and almost tripping over.

Isak notices that the pallor of his skin had taken on a greenish tint, and his veins appeared more prominent than ever.

Just before Isak could cross the room to help him, Even drops to his knees and collapses onto the carpeted floor.

*

When Even finally came to, it was already 2am. Isak had to drag him off the floor and onto the bed, mopping away the sheen of sweat from his face. He slept soundly for a solid three hours; as if those were the first hours of sleep he had gotten in days.

“You alright?” Isak asks, Even’s head in his lap.

“Yeah.” Even sits up and looks around, blinking a few times as if he were still in a daze.

“What was it? Ecstasy?”

“Just a little last night. To help me sleep.”

Isak couldn’t help but feel worried. Even only started using whenever his mental illness had gotten worse, to a point that made him feel out of control.

“That was stupid.”

“You’re the one to talk.” Even scoffs. “Plan on sharing your new stash of heroin?”

“I guess we’ve both been total fucking idiots lately. The point is, I’m here now, and you can talk to me about your condition. Just tell me how you’re feeling, and we can work something out.”

Even stares at him for a few moments, expression unreadable, before leaning over and pressing his lips against Isak’s. Isak’s lips parts in surprise, curving around the shape of Even’s mouth. Even pushes him back, tipping him over flat on his back and moves on top of him. Isak is certain that Even can hear the sound of his heartbeat, slamming against his ribs. Their bodies are aligned; chests pressed together, limbs intertwined like a mess of vines.

“Um, I don’t have any condoms on me.” Isak blurts, immediately feeling like a moron.

Even laughs. “Neither do I.”

“We don’t have to. Not tonight.” He whispers, and Isak nods.

They lie there, in perfect silence, Isak’s head resting in the crook of Even neck. It still feels like a dream, a scene in a movie where there’s swell of music just before the curtains draw to a close. It’s always a miracle when things just fall into place, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He feels unstoppable, with Even in his arms, alive and breathing. There will be problems awaiting them on their return no doubt, but they’ll deal with it together.

That’s enough, Isak thinks, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 more chapters to go! This chapter is tonally lighter than the rest but sort of dialogue heavy, as I needed to have a long reconciliation moment between Isak and Even. Hope you guys enjoyed it!


	7. Chapter 7

**4 days after incident**

The next few days are with Even are spent in total bliss. They spend the days exploring Bygdoy like tourists, as Isak had never been, sitting at cafes drinking coffee for hours on end and visiting an array of museums.

The folk and maritime museums were fascinating to Isak, filled with so much history and culture that urban Oslo was devoid of.

“That’s pretty badass.” Even laughs, as Isak tries on a Viking helmet at the souvenir store, complete with chain mail armor and a sword. “Kind of strange seeing you in something other than snap backs and hoodies.”

“If only I had the abs to pull this off.” Isak replies with a grin.

“You’d be the scrawniest Viking ever. And definitely the cutest by far. If I were the enemy, I’d be in big trouble.”

“Shut up.” Isak giggles, flinging a handful of foam darts at Even.

Even retaliates by grabbing the fake sword out of Isak’s grip, holding it horizontally and pinning Isak against the wall with the blade pressed up against his throat.

“Surrender or die.” He whispers, lips inches away from Isak’s jaw.

Isak is just about to reply when the store assistant yells at them from the other side of the store to stop playing with the merchandise if they don’t intend to purchase anything. A strange expression crosses Even’s face, and just for a fraction of second, he looks as if he wanted to yell back, and tell the store assistant to fuck off and mind her own business. But the moment passes and Even smiles at her, giving a friendly wave as they leave the store, hand in hand.

Lunch is a fairly uneventful affair. They decide to try an Alfresco café just down the street, serving light sandwiches and meat platters.

“I thought we’d hit the club tonight.” Even says nonchalantly, picking at his smoked salmon sandwich.

Isak stares at him. “Um, there are a few along the red light district but they’re mostly—“

“Gay clubs. So?” Even shrugs. “Isn’t that what we are?”

Isak found it difficult to mask his happiness. “So you’re cool with it?”

Even leans over and plants a kiss on Isak’s mouth, in full view of the group of Asian tourists passing by. Some stared, but most of them seemed unfazed by the public display of affection.

“You only live once.” He says, grinning. “And I intend to make the most of it.

*

It’s a quarter to eleven and the club is already lit. Daggers of light mingling with the sweaty bodies flooding the dance floor. Pounding electronic music and burning amber shots eliminating the slightest shred of coherent thought. Isak is entranced, both by the atmosphere and the sight of so many gay men squashed into one room, groping and making out without the slightest bit of shame. It’s feels almost like a sanctuary, a place where he could be who he was without any judgment.

“Tequila?” Even calls over the music. He’s standing at the bar, countertop sprinkled with glitter and confetti.

“Yeah.” He shouts back.

He’s caught between two couples, both making out intensely with their eyes closed. Just then, he feels another body press into his back, grinding into his ass. He turns around, a drunk middle aged man is leaning into him, so close that Isak can smell the beer on his breath.

“Hey, cutie. You alone?” He slurs, grabbing Isak by the hem of his shirt. Isak attempts to pry his fingers off, but he’s burly, and presses his entire weight into him.

“Look, sir, I—“ he starts, before someone grabs hold of the man by the collar of his shirt, pushing him into the fray. He crashes into several other couples, causing a mild stir. Isak looks up, feeling slightly disoriented, to see Even shouting at the man, dousing him over the head with a half-finished beer.

Sensing an oncoming fight, Isak grabs Even by the arm and drags him toward a quiet corner of the club.

“What the hell was that all about?” Isak asks. “You scared the shit out of me. He could have beaten you up really badly and we would have gotten thrown out.”

Even is shaking, eyes bloodshot. “He was touching you.”

His tone sends chill up Isak’s spine. The waitress places a tray of shots down on the table and Even grabs two and downs them both.

“I can’t stand seeing anyone put their hands on you like they- like they fucking own you.” He hisses, tightening his grip around the shot glass, as if to shatter it in his hands.

“It’s a club.” Isak says helplessly. “Everyone’s here to hookup. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“I wanted to kill him.” The worst part was that Even looked like he meant it.

Isak stares at him, and for the first time, he sees the monster that lay dormant within, now awake and slithering just below the surface of Even’s carefully cultivated façade. He found it frightening how Even could seem like two people at once.

Suddenly, the reason for Even’s outburst dawns on him. He had been edgy all of yesterday, talking fast and losing his temper at random moments.

“Shit. You’re not having a withdrawal are you?”

“No. I’ll be fine.” He says through clenched teeth, palms pressed into the back of his eyes.

“Come on.” Isak grabs him by the arm and hauls him out the back door. The gust of cool air that hits them in the face is almost refreshing, compared to the pulsing lights and heat of the club.

It’s a chilly night, somewhere in the mid twenties and the full moon is low in the sky, nestled above tiny wisps of clouds. There’s a bench across the road and they head over, Even’s arm slung over Isak’s shoulder.

“The bench.” Even says suddenly.

“What?”

“The message I left you. On the bench where we first met.” He repeats, tilting his head back onto the backrest. “I knew you’d find it.”

“You’re predictable that way.” Isak says softly. “I just imagined myself being in a Baz Luhrman film and thought about how the story would proceed from there. Then it was pretty clear.”

Even laughs, a gorgeous musical sound that twists up Isak’s insides. The moonlight is gorgeous on his skin, accentuating the planes and angles of his cheeks and jaw, making him look almost unreal. Without thinking, Isak leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“Promise me you’ll lay off the hard stuff.” Isak says, trying to sound firm.

Even looks at him for a moment, something broken in his gaze.

“You go first.”

“I promise.”

“Me too.”

They fall silent for a few heartbeats, listening to the sound of the wind scattering the leaves onto the streets. It’s the perfect time to apologize, for what they both have been trying to avoid ever since the day of the incident. When everything fall apart. Isak takes moment to gather the words in his mind. They needed to move forward, which started with leaving the past behind.

“I wanted to do something.” Isak says finally. “When I saw the Yakuza beating you up. But it was like I was frozen and I lost all control of my limbs.”

“I know. Forget about it.”

It was like a veil had been lifted between the both of them and Isak moved closer, resting his head on Even’s shoulder blade.

“The ferry leaves tomorrow.” Even says. “We’ve got class first thing in the morning.”

“Shit.”

“I know.”

“But we’ll be together.” Isak says, taking Even’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. “For real this time. And that’s the only thing that matters as far as I’m concerned.”


	8. Chapter 8

**2 weeks after the incident**

Even: Outside your block.

Isak: Ok, coming down. :)

 

Isak grabs his bag and tears down the stairs two at a time, reaching the landing in thirty seconds flat. Swinging open the main door, his breath hitches in his chest. Even is lounging against a pillar, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as Isak approaches, eyes twinkling with something brighter than just the sunlight.

“Are we going to walk to school together every day from now?” Isak asks playfully. “Seems a little over the top.”

“Only until I get a bike.” Even replies. “We’ll be the gay icons of Nissen. Idolized by generations to come.”

He leaps in front of Isak and makes a huge sweeping gesture with his arms, bowing dramatically.

Isak giggles. “People know we’re together, we don’t need to rub it in their faces.”

“Hey, we gotta make up for lost time.” Even throws an arm around Isak, pulling him close.

The past few days felt a dream. They were together. A couple. Solid and unshakable. After months of on and off hookups, Isak still couldn’t believe that Even was officially his boyfriend.

“How was the appointment yesterday?”

Even had started seeing a therapist since they came back from Bygdoy. He had sessions twice a week, and was prescribed a temporary round of medication to keep his bipolar fits under control. Isak had noticed a vast improvement in Even’s temperament and focus, even after just a few sessions, and was deeply relieved that Even was getting the help he required and not relying on alcohol and drugs to ease the pain.

“Kind of a drag, to be honest. Somewhere in the middle, I started thinking that I needed a drink to get through the session and realized what an irony that would be.”

“You gotta stick with it. Ten days sober. That’s a huge achievement.”

They stop at the traffic light and Even turns and plants a kiss on Isak’s cheek.

“You know I will.”

When they arrived at Nissen, Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi were already waiting for them at the gates.  
“Hey, come on. Honeymoon’s over.” Jonas says, rolling his eyes at their intertwined fingers.

“Not just yet.” Even winks, leaning over and nipping at Isak’s throat with his teeth. The other guys groaned.

“Everyone probably thinks we’re part of some huge gay orgy.” Magnus protests.

“Not far from the truth.” Mahdi replies, throwing an arm around him and laughing as Magnus shoves him off.

“Where’s Chris?” Isak asks, as they reached the lockers. “Haven’t seen him around for the last few days.”

Jonas raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you hear? He was arrested around the time you left. Apparently for possession of cocaine and loads of other hard stuff.”

Isak and Even exchange glances at those words. Chris had instigated Isak’s arrest and manipulated him into doing hard drugs when he was at his most vulnerable, just to get back at Even for dumping him a year ago.

“Well, serves him right.” Even says stiffly, tightening his grip on Isak’s shoulders.

“Noora’s having a party at her place tonight.” Mahdi says, in an attempt to change the subject. “You guys in?”

“Sure.” Isak replies. “Bring your own liquor right?”

“Yep.”

“Man, Eskild’s probably gonna invite about a dozen drag queens…”

Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi take off, chatting about the party. They wait till the guys have turned the corner before lacing their fingers together once again, before walking off to class.

 

*

Isak had been to at least a dozen Russ parties since the start of the year, but they were nothing compared to this one. Noora and Eskild had invested in a professional sound system and Technicolor laser lights which skimmed across the sweaty bodies on the dance floor, illuminating flashes of skin.

He crosses the room and grabs a glass of punch, spiking it with a dash of vodka. There’s a tap on his shoulder and he turns, expecting to see Even, but it’s Sonja. There’s a different energy about her somehow, more calm and collected, as compared to the last time they spoke.

“Hey.” She says. “How are you?”

“Good. And yourself?”

“Better than I expected.” She glances over the room at Even, laughing and chatting with Noora and Eskild.

“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for getting you involved in all of this, and for being so crazy and paranoid. I guess I just couldn’t face up to the truth.”

She pauses, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, she continues in a rush.

“I knew he was crazy about you right from the very start. Even when we were alone, he wouldn’t stop talking about you. About how intelligent and caring you were and how he felt like he could be himself around you. I just didn’t expect our breakup to happen so quickly.”

“I guess I’m sorry too.” Isak replies. “You know, for swooping in and stealing your boyfriend.”

He meant it as a joke, but she wasn’t smiling. That was the funny thing about Sonja, no matter how many times they spoke, he could never quite get a read on her. In certain respects, she was almost as unpredictable as Even.

“He was never mine.” She says softly, with a faraway look in her eyes. In that moment, she seems distant, trapped in past memories of her and Even. But the moment passes quickly, and she looks up at him, a small smile on her face.

“Look after him, will you?”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.”

She gives him a final nod and walks to over to rejoin her friends. He watches her go, eyes following her delicate frame. Suddenly, a figure stumbles into his line of sight. It’s Eskild, using his shoulders as support as he climbs onto coffee table.

“I want to propose a toast.” He slurs, kicking off his five-inch stilettos, and Isak ducks out of the way. “To Isak and Even! May they serve as a diamond-encrusted beacon of hope to all closeted gay kids out there and to anyone too afraid to be themselves.”

He grabs a plastic cup of beer, dousing himself over the head with its contents before hopping off the table.

“To Isak and Even!” The room chants, downing their drinks.

Isak laughs and raises his glass to the crowd, and they burst into whoops and cheers. Even is across the room, pounding beer and laughing like he’s lit from within. He probably is, shining both inside and out. Their eyes lock, and for a brief second, Isak is transported back in time. Blood and broken bottles. Sirens wailing through the night.

Then Even smiles, and the memory dissipates.

The last few weeks are nothing but a fog, eclipsed by the stunning view just a few feet away from him.

He takes a step forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the support and comments guys! I wouldn't have finished this story without all the constant encouragement and passion you guys had for it. Do check out my works from other fandoms as i'll be updating with new stories from those:) Once again, i hope you enjoyed this story and this last chapter as i had loads of fun writing it! xoxo


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